Speak
by Unwritten45
Summary: AU. Intelligence has always hated Anger- and was hated in return. But when a horrid mishap leaves them both in a situation where they need each other to survive, what is a man to do? And what does Black Mesa have to do with it? Human!AngerXIntelligence
1. Prologue

Hello everyone; thanks for clicking on this story

This is a Portal fancition following the Pairing of human Anger X Intelligence

It is yaoi, so keep that in mind before you begin reading. It is currently rated M for violence that will occur, but possibly later for more mature acts depending on the reviews I get

This is my first fancition, so be lenient on me

Flames will be used to roast marshmallows!

Enjoy

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Anger is only one letter short of danger.

That was how I always saw him.

He was a virus, a contagion. Something to be avoided at all costs, a hazard that would suffocate you. Will kill you. He had fingers that were stained an inky black, a putrid decaying stain that would drip from his digits in strands and pool beneath his body; would flood outwards and poison all that it touched and all of whom he came into contact with. He was a cruel monster. A beast. An unspeakable, disgusting bastard.

Maybe he was only tolerated by any of the others whom walked these metal encasing halls because he was a mute; because his emotions could not be shown through verbal tones like the rest of us all. People felt sorry for him, in a twisted sense of the word, of the feeling of true empathy for the speech impaired male.

I don't believe it.

I believe that he is simply, truly a horrid person who finds enjoyment in making others feel pain or misery. Maybe he feels no joy himself, and just wishes to shove his own brutal feelings of distrust and agitation upon others. Either way, his intentions are clear despite reason. And for that, I always have and always will hate him.

So how did I end up here with him, clinging for my life and his?


	2. Courtesy Call

(Intelligence PoV)

GLaDOS has never been the easiest woman to talk into anything. Nor the easiest to talk out of anything she does accept.

"GLaDOS, won't you please reconsider-"

"No."

GLaDOS is at the very top arch of the company here at Aperture Laboratories. She is the woman you have to go through to get what you want, to get anything approved. You might as well feel the need to speak with her if you wish simply to breathe and keep yourself alive. She runs everything, holds everything together like the strongest of glue and duct tape; ensures everything runs smoothly like oil to a rusted, worn door hinge.

But the woman was completely batty, and just as volatile.

At the age of twenty-nine, the woman already wore a head of shiny silver hair; bad genetics I suppose. Though it looked not terrible, cut short in an inverted bob, still young and pliant in her near youth. She had optics of an unsettling color. Bright gold like a hawks, steady and piercing; you were painfully aware when she leveled those things upon you. She was preparing for a hunt then, ready to tear you to tiny, bloody pieces with her talons. GLaDOS simply was not to be messed with, she was to be avoided like a hazard sign.

Not that GLaDOS was even her real name, of course. Here at Aperture, we all had interesting things to call others like that. Sort of like a codename, to conceal more of our true identity and keep some confidentiality even to our own coworkers. These names could simply be a jumble of letters, or maybe they pertained to your job itself; or even to yourself. A physical or mental trait, for example. Only GLaDOS and those of Rank C and above knew the names of those in the facility, had access to their files and all the little personal secrets about them. It had always been quite the taboo that the higher ups used those dark stains of information against the workers, but it never had enough evidence to hold true. Anyone who accused them of it simply didn't show up to work the next day.

I'm called Intelligence. Maybe it refers to my copious well of only logical thinking and monotone acting. Or maybe it is supposed to be a joke. It doesn't matter, no one knows my real name, this is what I am called. In fact, even I do not know my true name. Everything of me, and everything I know, is inside of this facility.

I wasn't born here, or made here; or anything science-fiction related like that. I simply do not remember anything from my past years of life. My childhood, my teenage years, my early adult hood. I'm a twenty-five year old man. My memory only follows the trail of the past three years. It's a pretty basic story. I was twenty years old and driving home from work late one night; had a nasty run in with a driver who was too drunk to walk straight, let alone to drive. He walked away with a few scratches; I left the road with a broken leg and hemorrhaging in my brain. They could save my life, but obviously I fell easily into a coma. When I woke up two years later, I knew nothing. My memories were gone, and as well were all those things you should have known since you were young. How to walk, how to talk, how to eat. It was all gone from my memory, damaged by a large scratch on the record.

When I opened my eyes, however, I wasn't greeted by my own family. I know I wouldn't have remembered them anyhow, but there was no one who even introduced themselves in that way. There was just a woman, older than I with a bob of shiny silver hair. GLaDOS was the one who took me from the hospital, took me to Aperture. I stayed in what she called the Relaxation Rooms for a while, and she provided people to teach me the basics of life once more. Once I was capable, she had me work for her in the lab. I was in charge of keeping track of the other humans in the Relaxation Rooms, escorting them to other rooms and labs, though I was never told the purpose for their transfers. Later on, she even allowed me entrance into the labs themselves, to offer aid to the design of new inventions using my off the wall ideas and interesting logic of impossible geometry. I had no prior experience, even though she assured me this was my place of work before the accident. I don't know if I believe her or not, but she's really the only one whom I can believe here, I suppose.

A few times, even my memory falters to this day. Memories of events and people that occurred in these last three years sometimes vanish, lost forever. Sometimes I forget all my memories of a person or an entire group of people in a bad case. Sometimes the memories of a single day, or of a whole week. It's a disaster of a hindrance, and sometimes I fear it is growing worse. One day it may cause me to lose my job, I'm sure. I've taken to writing everything down in a journal because of it, my thoughts, my day, my work. All filling up journals that take up a whole file drawer at my desk. Sometimes I stare at the dates of days I've forgotten, try and remember. But it only ever makes me frustrated.

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My hand twisted skillfully over the smooth surface of the paper, leaving trails of graphite as the pencil tip kissed the page. My ritual at the end of the day, every day. Writing down everything that occurred on this day, as precisely as I could manage. All my actions and my thoughts, even of whom I talked to. But today was special. Today was my birthday; I was 'officially' twenty-five years of age. I never thought too much about my birthday, to be honest, but some of my coworkers were kind enough to wish me a good day over it. Morality even got me a card; the woman was surprisingly kind behind her normally blank and near expressionless staring. She was very level-headed and basically a good person; maybe that was why she was called Morality. Curiosity and her boyfriend Space even suggested that they go out to eat after work tonight. It was still strange to me, the people in this facility. Some of them were quite amicable and kind; despite their overzealous and sometimes odd personalities. Curiosity and Space were good examples, she with her child-like desire to know everything, and he with his fascination with space that seems endless. They weren't bad though, if only a tad annoying after a little while of dealing with them. You grow used to it, I guess.

I agreed to go anyhow, though. What was the harm? I never allowed myself to treat myself to anything, for whatever the internal reasoning was. I could be a tad frivolous at times. It could be fun, I supposed. Better than sitting here all night. I do stay in the staff dormitories here, despite how strange it seemed sometimes. Some of the other employees stayed too, of course, but it was still odd to me. I knew that most people, normal people, had a home to return to when their day was over. Yet I remained here. Though I suppose I should be glad that I have anywhere to stay at all.

That was about when he showed up.

He always moved so silently, like a viper hunting mice in tall grass. Sometimes I wondered if he somehow stole one of the experimental portal guns from the lab and used it to get around; he was so painfully quiet. But I also knew GLaDOS would have murdered him for such a crime against the facility, so I suppose that is out of the question. Whatever the reason, just like always, I flinched a little bit when I finally noticed the presence looming behind me like a dark shadow. I hated when he did that, why couldn't the man at least announce his presence? Well, he was mute I could give him that; but could he not bother to knock?

I shut my current sewn journal once I noticed him, and slowly turned in my chair to level my gaze at the man before me; whom was tall and built lean, noticeable even in the slightly blocky light gray and black accented suit uniforms we wore by procedure. He always seemed to be half –glaring, all the time. With those eyes that seemed to hold far too much of a red tint for my desire. They were blood red, in fact, those circular irises in his optics. Fitting, for a demonic creature like himself; the perfect conflict to my own eyes, of which were a dark blue that, at times, almost appeared black in their hue. Speaking of black, there laid the raven shade of the man's hair, dark as night; cut short and choppy, messy in my own opinion, lightly framing the curved angles of his pale face. I preferred to keep my hair neat, honestly. My own hair was cut a bit choppy as well, but I kept the medium pale brown strands groomed neatly as I could anyhow. Sometimes it appeared as if the older man (by one year, I will grudgingly admit) simply rolled out of bed in the morning and wandered down the halls to glare at others. He stayed in the staff dormitories too, much to my displeasure.

"Can I help you, Anger?" The aliases the ebony haired man was given was a fitting one, if you were to ask me. He always seemed angry, like he was a dog with a thorn in his paw; though he allowed no one near enough to remove it. Always glaring, always scowling. But never speaking. Anger could understand language just fine when spoken to; he simply could not recuperate a verbal reply. So he settled on gestures and actions, to convey his points. Though he easily grew agitated when one couldn't understand what his strange movements meant. Sometimes I wondered why, if he had been this way his whole life, his parents didn't have him learn sign language. Then, at least, he could tell others what he really needed to tell them easily. I knew a bit of sign language myself, something GLaDOS had one of her men teach me in the years I was still incapacitated and learning everything of what she wished for me to know. I am by no means an expert, but I could get by. Not that I have any use for the knowledge now, obviously.

Those red eyes watched me with their normal intent as a slender hand rose, Anger pointing a finger at himself, then jabbing one at my own chest. Finally, he pointed at the door. His message was very much apparent, even to one who hadn't dealt with his odd gesturing and signing before like I have. Sitting back in my chair as if this hardly concerned me, I raised a brow.

"May I inquire the need for our departure?" Obviously that was what the male was trying to explain, that he and I needed to go somewhere. I didn't like that idea, to be honest. For even then Anger scowled a bit at my need to question the reasoning, his eyes leaving my own to glance at my desk. His hand moved to wrap around the slender base of the silver lamp left on my desk, flicking the table light on before turning up the moveable hood. I grimaced at the flare of light that shined at me then, attacking my sensitive optics and making me wince for a moment. Stupid man… Finally I managed to keep my eyes open, despite being half blinded by floating black dots around the rims of my eyes. I didn't really need to look at the lamp; I knew what Anger was trying to tell me. He always used this gesture, of the bright glowing light of the lamp that let off more of an orange glow than a white one. Like the eye of a large hawk. It was his sign for GLaDOS.

"GLaDOS wants us?" I asked, though the answer was obvious even before Anger nodded. But what in the world could she want with the both of them? I simply kept things running along the Relaxation Rooms and the transport of the people staying there, and occasionally (though more and more recently as of late) worked in the developmental labs themselves. While Anger worked behind the labs, doing tasks like organizing files and fetching items from the back; simple things he can do even despite his speech impediment. Even so, why would she want the both of us at the same time? It made little sense to me, considering the difference in our departments. But so be it. One could not simply ignore GLaDOS' orders, unless you really had a death wish. And frankly, I did not.

"Well I suppose it can't be helped," I murmured in the back of my throat, standing up from my rather comfortable chair. I was hoping to enjoy a simple night tonight, to be honest. It was actually almost looking forward to it, which was odd, for me. But I'm not stupid; I won't ignore the silver haired woman when she called. She was, more or less, the only person I could fully trust here. I know she is strict, and I've heard many claim of her cruelness. But of her I only knew the woman who was at my bedside when I woke up from a coma; the one who took me in and gave me a room, and provided me the knowledge I needed to get back up on my own two feet. Was she as cruel as some of the others claimed? I cannot say to be sure. But to me, she is my savior.

Standing up, I was once again placed under the realization that Anger was taller than I was. By a couple good inches, actually. A personal annoyance of mine, I hated being belittled by the feral man. Even in physical stature rather than a mental one. I do not like him, have I made this point clear? I hope I have with diligence.

The ebony haired agitation turned away then, wordless as always, already walking to the door and from the small room we were currently in. I'll give him one thing; due to his mute nature he was very proficient in his work. He didn't dally and talk often with others, for obvious reasons, unlike some of the others whom I knew who worked here. At least he got his work done… In fact, I recall many nights of seeing him just sitting there, on the railing that outlined the café area. Long before anyone else was finished with their work. He was already done, and he sat there for the rest of the night, all by himself, staring at seemingly nothing. There were no windows in Aperture Laboratories; only a viewing deck on the very top level that supposedly let you see the sky. It was only a rumor though; for only those of Rank C and higher could go up there. The rest of us were confined down here, as usual. But anyhow, I found Anger's odd behavior interesting. His proficiency in getting work done quickly was the only asset I saw in him.

I followed in silence myself. I was typically a silent character, unless engaged in conversation. Even then I'm told I'm rather monotone, unless a topic of my interest is breached. I enjoy things of logic, however strange that may seem. Could that have come from my only memories being of a laboratory? Possibly. But I think otherwise. I simply like logical things and all things of a logic template. The facts behind new experiments, maps, recipes- things like such. Not that I don't enjoy a good book when I have the spare time, but things of true fact and logic are simply… More suited, for me, I'd say. My mind often wonders off into unknown thoughts and ideas; but not of a whimsical nature, no. Even my mind is of things of logic and knowledge, musings and compositions that seemed to always be rattling about inside of my mind.

So caught up in the bowls of my own thought process, I almost ran into the man in front of me when he stopped so suddenly. Or at least, it was sudden to me. My feet barely managed to catch themselves before I hit the back of the ebony haired male, thankfully. I wouldn't wish to agitate him, right? Even so I frowned a bit as if it was his fault, stepping around to his side to view the room we were now in. I was never allowed in this part of the facility before. Rank B or higher- the most elite experimenters themselves, were the ones allowed here. I was only of Rank E, a step below the other classes of experiments and researchers in development. I still did a lot of tending with the subjects in the Relaxation Rooms, but GLaDOS considered my level to be that of a development researcher now with the new tasks she had been giving me. Anger, if I recalled correctly, was only of Rank F. Not by means the lowest Access Rank, but he was simply behind the scenes of the labs. He had access to materials and chemicals and components, but that was all. Neither of us should be allowed here, to be frank. Yet here we stood. I wondered, for a moment, if Anger had simply led us to the wrong place. I didn't know if he knew the facility well or not. Whenever I saw him he was just sitting on that railing, or sitting in his dormitory. Though God forbid whatever the man did at night, I could swear sometimes I hear things moving around at night down the hall where his room resided.

These chambers where we stood now branched off like a bee-hive, I knew from many a night studying the maps of the facility as to not get lost myself. They contained various different items and chemicals. And experiments. Things of such a high level that even Anger, whose job it was, was to often organize and collect these sorts of items, wasn't allowed back here at all. These rooms were all of plated bleach white metal, crossed by black hairlines of wielding marks that held them together; and the air itself stank of the hanging odor of disinfectant and other strong cleaners mixed in with the taste of various chemicals. It was a tad burning to me, since I was used to the clean, recycled air that was circulated throughout the rest of the facility. This was almost horrific to me, making me absently twist up my nose as I looked around the arching white walls.

I was very uncomfortable here. If Anger was wrong and we were not supposed to be here, the both of us, just like the others who spoke out, wouldn't be showing up for work tomorrow. I've only been containing the conscious memory of just three years- what sad time to be dying at. I had no death wish; my instinctual humanistic need to survive was very much prevalent in my mind.

"So you've finally made it. You can be so slow sometimes, you two…" My head snapped around as my thought process was snapped in half like a twig; and I would not admit the way my dark eyes were slightly widened in sheer surprise of the sudden voice that I had not anticipated. I was currently being led around by a mute man- I expected no words at all. Yet there she sat, the same silver haired woman of whom I was musing may be my murder not too long before now. She was perched on a slender black metal chair, her back curved up straight, and legs crossed daintily under the light steel gray uniform skirt that all female employees were told to wear, as was accustomed of most proper woman, like of whom she made herself out to be.

Those eyes of hers didn't leave the two of us. Golden and flicked with almost an orange tone, predator eyes of a bird of prey that was stalking a current victim. GLaDOS was the person who aided me, the woman who saved me. I do not believe all the cruel tales about her. But yes, sometimes she made me uncomfortable with that hard gaze of hers, and the slight up tilted smirk on her lips, curled on her pale porcelain face. I felt Anger shake beside me. I spared a glance at the man in my peripheral in a tad bit of curiosity. He was not shaking of fear, his narrowed red eyes suggesting his infuriation and blatant distaste. He always acted this way around GLaDOS. Maybe most did not notice it, thought it was just a part of his typical behavior, for he was glaring all the time at most everything. But I noticed the difference. How his jaw was tensed so tightly like a coil, and the soft, barely present rumble I could hear in the very base of his throat, like a caged animal growling at its captor. Sometimes I wondered why he acted this way, why he seemed to hate Her so much. But then I decided I didn't care terribly much- Anger was simply a very volatile individual.

GLaDOS stood then, her movement performed with grace that she always seemed to oddly have, a slender hand moving to carefully tuck a strand of silver hair behind her ear. I noticed then that she was clutching a clipboard to her chest, one arm wrapped around the metal object as if it was precious as a child. And then it was swung out toward them with a fluid movement, the thin board cutting easily through the air and stopping just before their necks.

"Here, children. I have a job for the two of you." I was coerced into taking the pad from her, slowly turning it to face my gaze so I could glance at what was clipped to its hard surface. A couple simple, thin white sheets of paper covered in black typed ink. A list of sorts of complex names and a few directions, some of which I understood, others which I didn't really understand. Chemical compounds of some kind that I haven't had the need to use or learn of before now. I shook my head a small bit, slowly, as I scanned the words over.

"These are complex chemicals and utensils. Neither of us are of Rank to be performing a task in a restricted area," I began with my normal logic, looking back up at her away from the paper. It simply didn't make sense to me like it should, that was all. And when things did not follow a logical path in my mind, I questioned it. I questioned a lot of things around here. Until things made sense to me, I wouldn't give up my inquiries. That was just how I worked I supposed. GLaDOS crossed her slender arms over her breast, shrugging her curved shoulders with a nonchalance that suggested her lack of care in this legal matter of Aperture day-to-day life.

"Anger will still be able to recognize the listed items, won't he? And you my dear, will be there to… supervise," she explained, her hunting eyes glancing over Anger from foot to head with a slight air of distaste, like she was looking at a rat. Not that I didn't agree with that visage for him, but still, I wondered about the look she was giving off to him. Like she didn't trust him. But the taller male had been working here even for longer than I have. What reason could she have to distrust him? Though as I looked at him and the blatant curl of a snarl now on his lips from her words, I could understand a reason why she would distrust him. He was volatile and unpredictable. If these items she was requesting was of a classified Rank, one like Anger wouldn't be trusted alone handling them. Especially in an area that is as restricted as this one is. Without her Rank A orders, if we were found here… We would be so severely punished I'd be concerned for my life. Rightfully so.

Tucking the clipboard under my arm, I allowed myself to examine the woman before me, uncharacteristically of me. I often observed other people, but I never questioned her before. But then again, never before had she asked me to do a task like this one. I couldn't help but be a little wary, in this part of the facility that has discretion and hazard written all over its walls in inky colors only visible to the mind. Absently, I clicked my tongue quietly and spoke, "And these… Are just necessary items for an experiment? Why couldn't one of the researchers of an appropriate Rank be sent to do this?" Questions, questions, they seemed to dominate my life recently. Most didn't have the gall to question GLaDOS, she would make her distaste in an idea very apparent if you bothered asking about her methods or ideas. I was one of the few who risked it, for unlike them, I didn't have such bad thoughts on the woman before me. She helped me when I needed aid- how bad could she truly be? To me she really was everything.

"They're busy on the experiment that these items are needed for. So hurry along, if you take too long the experiment could end up a failure," she said, her lips smiling at us a bit, in that way of hers that was not warm nor caring as smiles normally were. It was colder, was warning and threatening like a predators gaze. She always looked like that. But I suppose, I could not refute her reasoning for us being sent to perform this task. Everyone knew those of an Elite Rank were always busy; one could not blame them for being unable to perform a fetching task like this. So one of lower Ranks had to go perform these tasks for them. Though I still wondered why one of the Rank C or even D researchers didn't do this task, as they were more cleared in access than we were, but… I wouldn't ask again. I wanted to, but for her, I'd remain silent. And I'd nod, and I'd listen. Besides, the sooner that we found these items and returned, the sooner that I wouldn't have to be walking around with the bane of my existence standing just to my left.

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GLaDOS left us alone, informed us to bring the compounds and tools to the third floor researching and experiment labs. Also an area only permitted to those of Rank B and higher, only for the most elite of characters here. But of course chemicals listed under a Rank B clearance code would be needed in only the Rank B elite laboratories. Again, something I could not really refute or question her over. She did provide us with a small printed map of the area of the facility we were in, details of the branching white rooms and how to navigate them. I noticed very quickly that this map showed many more rooms than the basic map of the whole laboratory facility that I had studied in my room before. It showed a whole different pattern in itself. Still branching like a beehive, but in other directions, curling like a thread around a center spindle located down the long hall we were currently walking down. The basic map was wrong. A fault that I knew must have been done on purpose.

Aperture Laboratories was always under fire from out biggest rivals- Black Mesa. They did experiments and research horribly similar to what we did here- and the two facilities have always been competing to have the better research, the better tests, and the better production. Recently Aperture Laboratories has been winning out these 'battles' of a sort. We've had the better outcomes, the better technology compared to Mesa. And the other team is quite the sore loser over these outcomes recently. There's been a lot of taboo about people working in Aperture being spies from Black Mesa. Quietly working, yet sending back technology and information on our tests and experiments back to the head of Black Mesa. If this is true, than any maps available even only to employees would likely be scrambled- at least in elite areas like this one. To confuse anyone breaking into restricted areas. Even those of our own. I never believed the foolish ideas, but I suppose, there has to be some reason why the regular employee maps are drawn incorrectly in certain areas…

I could think about employee taboos for a long while, I knew. But I was broken of my reverie by a small bump against my shoulder, a bit more determined and harsh than necessary. Because of it I half glared myself as I turned my gaze over to look at the man responsible for this- Anger, of course. Those crimson eyes were narrowed slightly as usual, tilted down a bit due to our slight height difference, trained intently on me. I arched my brow in a silent question as to what he could want; as I carefully tucked the map under the clip of the clipboard I was still carrying, along with the list of items we needed to fetch. Remembering to look back up at him in time to see his communicating gestures, Anger waved a hand in a vague gesture to the space just before us, the ebony haired man having already stopped walking.

Before us was a door typical of Aperture. White reinforced metal, speckled with thin black wielding lines and small round bolts. Most all of the doors in the facility were automatic- detecting movement and opening when one approached them. This one, however, was blatantly locked. A keypad rested off to the side, admitting a small blue glow from its LCD screen on its place mounted on the wall. I clicked my tongue. GLaDOS had given me an access card for this door- as well as the password also needed to unlock the system. I could almost guarantee the password on this door was changed almost daily, that was why she didn't care about giving it to me. This was too much of a restricted area for her to be so careless otherwise.

Stepping in front of the year older man, I approached the device bolted to the wall, carefully pulling out the thin, gray plastic card from my pocket that I had been given, imprinted with the black Aperture logo. Turning it over between my fingers, I quickly swiped the card through the slot at the very edge of the keypad- causing a small, hardly noticeable beep to erupt from the device. Holding it now to the side, I balanced my dominate left hand over the key pad, fingers fitting neatly into the slight curve of the black keys. And I typed with quick accuracy.

BRI54JGKSD32-

Striking enter with my free thumb, I withdrew my hands, watching the codes spiral across the bright LCD screen, the device being finicky in deciding if it wanted to accept the given code and pass card. After a brief pause, another small sound resounded from the keypad, as the small angry red light on the edge changed to a bright fluorescent green, and with a metallic hiss of air and sliding of metal against gummy rubber buffers, the locked door slid open smoothly, deciding to allow us into the bowels of what it was hiding. I glanced back at Anger as if he was going to offer a reaction, but the raven haired male was already past me, walking into the main room of this section of the facility without a word. Silent and efficient as always, I thought to myself as I tucked away the access card once more, keeping it safe inside my pocket as it was needed for any other locked doors we will most certainly come across in this restricted area.

The main room itself was not like I could believe. Its size could easily dwarf the development lab that I worked in, made of towering white metal walls that curved up into a neat dome at the top, high above our little spot on the ground. Well lit with bright white lights, long shadows painted the floors like spindly black fingers; the stench of disinfectant and cleaner even stronger here. I even noticed Anger tilting up his nose slightly in disgust, red eyes narrowed a tad more than usual. It held similarity in the labs I knew though, in the towering curves of lab tables, some still containing a few tightly closed solution bottles and papers, a few pens rolled off to the edges of the black surfaces. But no one was here. No one was working, or even cleaning up after a recent test. It was just empty- dead. It was very unsettling, the way the air itself seemed perfectly still.

That wasn't the strangest occurrence in this towering room, however. That came as I continued to walk forward, my eyes cast to the side walls to my right. And the large hollow tubes that lines them. Each one wider than I could stretch out my arms, and nearly as tall as the dome ceiling so far above. Thick black tubes wound out from the thick metal bases like protruding ivy plants, winding around and between each tube; the thick glass frosted in a fluorescent green tint that made it impossible to see what was contained inside of it. Fascinated by the large objects lining the walls, I stopped before one, gazing up at the shape many times larger than I. Slowly, hesitantly, I stretched out a hand to touch against the glass of one of the tubes; my fingers brushing the surface before I lowered my whole palm upon it. It felt cold as ice, the greedy glass instantly stealing the heat away from my open palm, making me almost shiver at the uncomfortable situation. I drew back my hand, a sketchy print of my palmer left in the surface.

I ducked just in time.

Upon hearing the enraged growl of sound from behind me, I apprehended what was to come. I had heard it before, quite a few times. It was the sound of a familiar and hated ebony haired man snapping under the pressure of his own constant agitation. And the poor object of which was punished for that breakdown went soaring just over my bent head; smashing against one of the large tubes I had been studying moments before. Pieces of broken ceramic littered the floor in a symphony of little sounds, pointing out what had been abused. A simple white mug that was speckled with black printed words that I could tell spelled out Aperture Laboratories. A little mug that had just been doing its job, being a mug. Holding things, being stationary. And was assaulted without just reason, and now laid broken on the floor.

Scowling slightly, I turned around to look at the ebony haired man who I should not have turned my back on for even just a moment, I knew. Anger stood with his spine curved forward, his fists curled and lips drawn back in a teeth baring snarl that I could only describe as animalistic. Anger was not like most people, who bared their teeth in a smile of happiness. He bared his teeth like an animal did, to show threat. To try and ward off something or another out of fear. Even his bloody crimson eyes were wide and threatening. But they weren't looking at me. They were staring at the shattered remains of the mug as if the poor thing truly insulted him. I glared a bit myself,

"What was that for? You could have broken something important, you know," I told him, my voice monotonous as usual, but containing a decidedly scolding air to it. Red eyes snapped to my visage, still wide and horrid. And scared. I hadn't noticed it just before in his obviously livid pose and drawn back snarl. He was scared. Something startled him; something made him act like a caged beast, feral and hurt. It almost made me hesitate in pure confusion. I've never seen Anger show any other emotion on his countenance other than, well, his anger. And he was showing that emotion even now, but there was more there too. There was pure freight.

Prepared to ask questions as usual, that was when I heard it. Soft like the patter of rain, yet hardly as peaceful. More ominous and strained like the slow crinkling of paper. Slowly I turned around, focusing my gaze on the source of the sound. And I watched in growing horror as spindly white spider veins grew along the surface of the frosted glass tube behind me, spreading out wider and wider as the sound grew; white cracks that grew together and created the smallest of segmented glass shards, the glass damaged by the mug that smashed against its surface with such force. I waited for it to break, to come shattering down and release whatever likely dangerous experiment was contained inside, whatever chemical was likely stored in there. The crackling sound slowly died, before coming to a final halt. And the glass did not shatter.

I let out a breath that I hadn't known I was holding, turning my gaze back to Anger as if to accuse him for that. Even if it didn't break, they would face horrible consequences for that and he knew it, I knew that he did. However, as I opened my mouth to scold him once more for this, the only sound that came was the sound of a loud, piercing shrill cry of a siren. The once horribly bright white lights in the room instantly shut off, leaving the place dark and shadowed horrifically by one light alone now. One that was a bright orange, flashing from above the door that we just came through. One that hung just above the sign of large, black painted letters.

QUARINTINE LOCKDOWN.

We were trapped.


	3. Biological Threats

Notes:

I won't update this often; I only write in the free time I have during my lab- more free time, more writing, that's all

Also, before someone cuts off my head (possible spoilers ahead?) I do give credit to the wonderful game of Dead Space for the design of two of the creatures I will be using in this story; the stalker and the leaper

Though mine are not exactly the same, I do give due credit to the creators of Dead Space for them; the others that will show up will be of my own creation

That is all

Enjoy

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(Anger's PoV)

I knew what the orange light meant.

The orange light meant certain pain, certain sickness, certain death. I've been here longer than anyone here knew; I have seen the light happen once before. I was not trapped in the lockdown, but I saw the bodies of the men who were after the quarantine was lifted and they were allowed to leave. Deformed and ill, with taunt ashen skin stretched over their gaunt cheekbones, their bodies thin and torn and covered in congealed blood from sliced, diseased flesh. Bodies' bloated and haggard, flesh hanging from their bones that radiated the most horrible of stenches, a stench of death and choking disease and pain. An odor that lingered even in the disinfected stench of the laboratories, reminding us all for days of what had occurred.

I wasn't going to become one of those bodies, with their light gray and white uniforms torn into strips that hung from their gaunt bodies. I wasn't weak; I wouldn't roll over and die. I wouldn't allow myself to feel panic, that was against my nature. This entire section of the facility will be locked down, for whatever reason. But I knew from previous experiences how to shut off the lockdown. How to shut off the power of the entire facility itself from an area of the facility like this one. After all, I had done it before.

"Do you see what you did?" I turned my gaze to the brunette addressing me, inwardly a tad surprised that his normally terribly calm and blank visage was a little ruffled right now, a little startled, a little disconcerted. A visage like that of a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I scowled at his words. Who was he to tell me this was my entire fault? It was never my fault, never! It was Aperture's damn fault. Always their fault, always their fault- it was all because of them! Without thinking about it I snarled at the younger employee, baring my teeth defensively for a brief second. I could never stop myself from my more feral instincts that resided in my body more so than that of a normal human being. It could be passed off as because I was a mute, and unable to express myself in other ways. But I knew the real reason why.

I found myself enraged by his accusations. I've never been on good terms with Intelligence. I know I make bad first impressions, but this man was no better than I. He was too monotonic, too instantly judging of everything and everyone; using his 'logic' to create a vision of a person off of a first impression. I hated him for judging me even more than some of the others here. I could tell through his treatment of me, the way he seemed annoyed by my presence. He thought I was stupid and volatile, because I was unable to speak. To him, I was completely useless, right? Just like I was to Aperture as a child.

Offensively I stepped toward him, raising my hand to begin to mime off my anger towards him. Maybe to hit him- that would be the easiest way to convey my distaste without words. Sadly I didn't get the chance. It interrupted me, its voice spilling ominously over the overhead speakers in this part of the facility; the voice booming and echoing along the high arching walls here. That be-damned voice that has haunted the darkest corners and reassesses of my mind for far too long now. A feminine voice that made my body instantly tense up; forced a growl into my lower throat.

"What have you _done_?" GLaDOS. I could tell by her tone she was angry. No, she was quite livid with us. Good. She had to have been only broadcasting the speaker message to this part of the facility; otherwise she wouldn't have let herself act in such a personal way, as fierce as she was in her blatant agitation and exasperation. "You've set off the quarantine lockdown, and I'm getting readings that one of the NecroRenovation Experimental Hulls has been damaged." My gaze flickered over to the odd item in question, the large glass tube that was now covered in spider cracks. That was what had set off the quarantine? It's damage? Did it contain a gas, or a liquid, that was deadly to biological health? Knowing Aperture, if this was the case we would likely already be feeling the effects of it.

What had she called it? NecroRenovation…. Necro meant dead. Renovation meant to revitalize, or to reanimate. I almost shivered as old words I had heard from the woman crept back into the front of my mind_. 'I've always had a fascination with reanimating the dead. Maybe I'll try it one day.' _All those workers who never showed up to work the next day after performing a high offense against the laboratories; what really happened to them?

I hardly noticed as she continued talking over that loud echoing speaker. "There's no way to turnoff the quarantine lock down from where you are unless it shuts itself off when the biological threat is gone. I suggest you two both leave that room right now; you'd be morons to stay otherwise. If the broken hull allows it to get out, you both will-"Whatever else she was saying was completely drowned out of existence by the commotion that followed.

It all happened so suddenly. Neither of us anticipated it, too distracted by Her voice and panicked thoughts. If it wasn't for the horrific noise it made, I may not have even noticed the large glass tube behind us shattering, sending a cascade of jagged crystal glass tumbling down; the newly released pressure sending forth a swarm of swampy green liquid. The substance gave off white foam at its edges like sea waves, flooding out along the newly gained territory of the lab floor, and curling thickly around my feet. I almost grimaced as I felt the clinging substance climbing up the fabric of my uniform pants legs, and I snarled in distaste, quickly jumping away from the substance as it flooded outward in a radiant manner. I lifted myself up on a nearby chair, as if the liquid would burn me, would harm me. Who knows, maybe it could.

I watched the veins of golden yellow swirl around the dark, dark green, a snarl still pulling up my lips. Intelligence still stood in the fray, looking surprised and confused. Yet he was frozen still, as if entranced. I wanted to throw something at the stupid moron, make him get out of that damned liquid before it killed him. And I almost did, my fingers already wrapped around the spine of a composition notebook left innocently on the desk I was beside. But I was stopped. Stopped by the same thing that froze him, as my gaze flickered to the side; toward the thing that the other man was staring at with those coal black, blue hued eyes of his.

It was pulsating. Beating in a steady manner like a hearts calm metronome. I could only see it as a mound of flesh, covered by a pliant thin membrane that had a sickening glisten in the rotating orange quarantine light that still lit up the room, similar to the look of spilled intestines. I watched as the membrane bubbled outward slowly, before retracting back into its core; only to perform the action again, only stronger, something pressing against the flexible, thin membrane, as the mass shifted about the floor that was now covered in that odorous green liquid that was still coming out in thin trundles from the bottom layer of cracked glass on the broken hull.

There was only so much that membrane could take.

It tore like melted plastic, falling apart in a series of frayed fibers as one odd appendage stretched from its membrane covering. Slick with membrane fluid, the limb jutted out awkwardly from the core mass itself, thin and composed of torn bloody, ashen flesh. Gangly, in the manner of its large paw of a hand; so out of proportion it was unable to remain raised, the humanistic hand flopping back to the ground a moment later, thick black claws jutting from the paw digging into the tile floor. It worked to right itself, allowing a distorted shoulder to slip from the membrane; another clawed spindly limb tearing from the mass. With sudden fury the mass shook, rearing back like an unbridled stallion, tearing apart the whole of the membrane; leaving spindly fibers dangling from its disjointed flesh. It was a monstrosity bigger than myself.

Those clawed hands slipped on the slick floor as it made attempts to right itself on equally gangly feet, under legs that bent forward so awkwardly like that of a long-legged flamingo. Its torso was thin and its spine was arched unnaturally; its thoracic cavity ripped open completely, allowing dried and blackened organs and intestines spilling from its open body. And its head. Atop a slender neck, its head was angled like a bird; with a jaw broken and distorted from the unnaturally large saber-like teeth jutting from either side of its gaping mouth that seemed unable to close due to the huge ivory daggers of teeth. Half of its face was mangled and torn into the smallest of pieces; but I could still see those coal black eyes, shiny and without any whites, focused on the two of us.

Its chest heaved and collapsed as it was breathing, exhausted from the effort of breaking free from the membrane it was incased in. But that wouldn't stop it from attacking. And it would head to the easiest target first, as any instinctual animal. And that being was Intelligence, who still stood on the floor, who still stared at the beast before them. The atrocity even folded back its gangly arms like a birds, tight and bent against its body as it leaned down even closer to the floor, bending down on its slender legs. It was prepared to charge.

It stumbled forward uneasily on unused legs first, smashing into another one of the glass hulls; its massive body cracking the glass there as well, allowing even more of the swampy liquid to begin to drain from there as well. Would another one get out as well? I didn't have time to muse on it, as the creature suddenly let out a screech that could pierce even the deafest of ears; repositioning its legs and shaking its head as if to clear a headache. This time, I knew it wouldn't miss.

Letting a growl rip from my throat I jumped down from the chair I was poised on, sending up a splash of the liquid that was contained in those tubes. I didn't care about what it was now; it couldn't be as bad as that creature. I ran forward, kicking up the green substance behind my in splashes as I almost tackled myself into Intelligence, wrapping my arm so firmly around his own and tugging him sharply after me. He let out a cry, and I wondered if my force possibly dislocated his shoulder. That didn't matter now. I didn't stop as I forced him to run with me across the large room. I could hear its ungainly steps behind us, still stumbling slightly, but still fast. I didn't want to know how fast it could run when it wasn't so disorientated.

I don't know why I dragged the useless brunette behind me. He would provide a good distraction for the beast while I escaped. But then again, he was the one with the pass card and codes we needed to open the doors. Only the doors leading back into the main facility should be quarantined; the rest in this part of the building should allow us to pass under code. That must be the reason why I grabbed him and tugged him along with me. I had no protective instincts otherwise; I only looked out for myself.

Dogging around tables, I practically threw the younger worker at the locked door in front of us, hearing him hit his palms against the door to save himself from hitting his head against it. I growled at him, but I knew that he would know what I wanted him to do. To open the damn locked door using the card he had. Intelligence nodded his head at me, face falling back into his normal calm façade that he seemed to be wearing. But I could see that startled nature still there, as he hurriedly fished out the pass card and started pounding at the keypad to open the lock. I noticed him stumble once or twice, almost drop the plastic card. I prayed he could get his damn fingers under control to finish this task before we were both murdered.

I turned around right before the creature was on top of me. I couldn't even suck in a breath before it had its ungainly arms around me, holding me tight in its grasp; its gasping jaws stretching toward me, while a mixture of blood and saliva dripped from the sharp ends of its long saber fangs. The horrid smell the creature gave off made me grimace; a mixture of congealed blood and death itself, the scent of rotting flesh and organs. I snapped out a hand to push against it, my hand sinking into the soft, rotted flesh of its shoulder; my palm actually pressing against the broken curve of its collarbone. I tried not to gag, trying to struggle backwards away from it as I released a furry of snarls and growls from my throat; an animalistic display that could hardly be considered noises to come from a man. As if my angered emotions could somehow scare it off. I snapped and half hissed, drawing back my lips and baring my teeth.

It was unfazed. Instead it screeched into my face, a sound horridly similar to the sound of claws scrapping down the surface of a blackboard. A sound that made me bend my head back and away as it to try and escape it; a stupid action that gave it the perfect opportunity to drive those fangs of it's into the soft juncture of my neck and shoulder.

And in that moment, I was sure I was going to die.

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I found another reason to keep Intelligence around.

He saved my life.

I don't know why he did. We've always hated each other. Hated each other silently, or at least on his part, but we didn't like each other. We mixed like oil and water, or a cat and a dog. Two things one should not put together. Like a flame to alcohol. Yet here I was.

My head was throbbing. A steady pulse that traveled down my body in spasms, concentrated on one certain center in between my neck and my shoulder. A little reactor that sent radiation waves of pain down my body, an ache that almost seemed to turn my limbs to a soft gel, pliant and unable to work under their own accord. I could feel the growl of discontent rising in my throat, but by the time it managed its way through my vocal cords the sound that was produced only seemed to be a small, pathetic whimper of a wounded animal. God, everything hurt. Something hard and cold was pressing angrily against my back, sapping away the feverish heat in my body. But it felt good, that sapping numbness and the chill of near ice, so I could only assume I was fevered. Yet something soft still cradled my head, I noticed as I gently let my head roll over to one side, still reluctant to open my eyes. Hesitantly I opened my eyes into the still darkness of the room, to see what was cradled around my head. It was a male Aperture gray suit jacket. And judging by the pin of dark blue on the lapel, it belonged to Intelligence.

Slowly I craned my head to look around. To see if he abandoned me here with nothing but his jacket. I couldn't see the irritation of man anywhere; in the smaller sub room I seemed to be in now that branched off from the large main hub. The thought made me growl weakly again, burying my face into the only soft thing in the room, on the floor I was resting on. The fabric smelled like him, I thought absently, in that animal-natured way of mine. I wrinkled my nose a bit. It smelled of fresh detergent and the paper of books and journals. That was Intelligence all right. I certainly wasn't fond of the man, but to be frank, I was even less fond of the idea of just being left here. The stupid bastard- just who did he think he was? Leaving me alone here while he escaped. What would I do? I know how to get out of quarantine- but I can't do that without the pass card and codes to open the doors in this part of the facility. And Intelligence was the son of a bitch with those.

I let another sound of distaste come from my mouth, another snarl out of many. The only sounds I could make, with my inability to produce any true words. Exasperated and angered and terrified- I let myself make these sounds. Let myself growl and scream and hiss as if the bastard who left me here could hear me. As if the world would know how angry I was with it for placing me in this situation. As if it would make me feel any better.

"Are you going to lie there snarling like a beast all day?" I froze at the voice, my angered noises dying instantly on my tongue. I would have immediately lashed out, if it wasn't for two factors. One being the near suffocating headache I was suffering and the throbbing pain in my aching limbs; the other being the fact I recognized that voice. I turned my head to the side using the soft curve of the jacket I was lying on, focusing my gaze on the source of the voice. Intelligence hadn't left. For some reason, I found this sudden realization hard to believe.

Intelligence looked, well, like Hell. Compared to his normal meticulous self that is. His hair was disheveled, dark brunette strands sticking up awkwardly compared to their normal neatness. Of course his suit jacket was missing, leaving him in only a stark white button up that was a tad wrinkled now; and I spotted a few scuff spots along the once pristine fabric. And there was blood. Blood on his cuffs, and on the front of the white material. But he seemed not to be injured; the blood not his own. I knew it was mine. And the realization brought me to finally notice the warm, sticky wetness that was making the fabric of my own clothes cling to my body thickly along my left shoulder in a sickening way.

My lips parted slightly as if I was going to speak, but we both knew I could not. So I simply watched him, boring my crimson eyes into his form as I did whenever I wanted answers. And I wanted them soundly. Intelligence gave a small click of his tongue, walking closer to where I was lying on the floor from across the room. He must have just returned to the room, I thought; and I missed the sound of the door opening due to my angered snarling. I tensed out of habit as he crouched beside me, his elbows resting on his bent knees, hands dangling in the empty space in-between. I always hated having people near me; it made me uncomfortable, when I was like this. I felt vulnerable, to be frank, lying here like this. I did not trust him.

"That… Thing attacked you, remember? You passed out right before I finished unlocking the door," he began; his voice just as calm and steady as always. Just as dead and lacking emotion as it ever was, even now. Seems he smoothed down his earlier frayed nerves and stifled his emotions once more. "I hit it with the fire extinguisher attached to the wall… I managed to pull you away from it, and into this room. I can still hear it though," he added in a softer manner than before. I remained quiet; and I could hear it too. Scratching against a door at a location in the room I could not pinpoint, something subtle in the mostly sound-blocking thick metal hulls of the rooms, but still existent and irritating, like the itch of a mosquito bite. Still letting us know it was there, hunting for us. Whatever it was.

I stared at Intelligence for a long moment after that. And I thought. I hated being in a contemplative mood; I didn't like thinking too much over things like this. It just made me remember things I didn't want to, or made me feel horrid on the inside. But I did so now anyhow, I couldn't stop myself. I wondered why Intelligence bothered saving me. Unlike myself, who needed him to unlock the doors for me- Intelligence did not need me at all. If anything I was a hindrance to him, and I know he hated me soundly. Why not give me up, let me die? I suppose… Maybe he just had some damn morals in his body, some reason to save me. Maybe he was returning the favor from when I pulled him away from the beast as well. I could not be sure.

Hesitating, I slowly raised my right hand on my uninjured side, digits trembling just a bit in thought and uncertainty. Carefully I placed them on his shoulder, letting the curve of my palm cup the bend of his shoulder, squeezing slightly. Had seen people do this to each other before- it was friendly. I was trying to show, dare I admit it, a bit of thanks. Like… 'Thanks, I guess'. If I could speak, that was. But I cannot. Intelligence just blinked though, glancing at my hand, then back to my face as if he was confused. Not at smart as his name made him out to be, I thought bitterly.

"What is it?" He was obviously confused at my gesture. No wonder, it was one I never really used before. I never had a need or the desire to bother showing thanks toward anyone. Why should I? But when I actually tried it seemed to get me nowhere. In annoyance I narrowed my eyes and growled in defiance, quickly pulling back my arm and rolling my body over so my back faced the other man in obvious annoyance. My sore limbs and aching shoulder protested at this unnecessary movement, but I didn't care. I wanted to show my exasperation, and I cannot do that in words like normal people can, only in action. I heard the brunette sigh,

"What did I do? Come on, you're not that easy to understand." At this I growled low in my throat again, a warning for him to be quiet about it before he got me really upset. I didn't like this guy, honestly I didn't. "If you're mute, why didn't your parents ever teach you sign language then?" Oh, that was it. In just a few words he managed to cross a line that should not be crossed even with one hand- he stepped over that line with a running start.

Snarling, I quickly sat up, fueled by angered adrenaline enough so for my body to ignore the aches in my limbs and the blood oozing from the tear in the nape of my neck. I lunged at him, my hands grabbing at his vulnerable throat while my knees pushed hard against his abdomen to bring him hard down to the metal floor. My thumbs pressed against the delicate hollow of his throat, my knees poised to either side of his waist as I leaned close to him and growled, applying pressure to his neck. The startled man used his hands to tug at my wrists, His body twisting under me with force that, honestly, I could only just contain.

"Get off me you brute!" He shouted at me as I let myself be blinded by red; not caring about the sticky warmth that was spreading down the fabric of my clothing from the wound I had sustained. Nothing else mattered right now. Intelligence drew a small breath that he could just gain through the pressure of my thumbs against his throat, his dark eyes narrowing at me. "Whatever has you pissed off, you need to get over it. It's not a big deal anymore- neither of us can get out of here alive by ourselves," he told me, his voice a bit strained yet firm even now. I studied his visage with my scarlet eyes, still growling quietly. Of course I could get out of here by myself! I'd just take the pass card and codes from him and I'll be fine! I don't need his damn help!

I almost snapped out at him, but I managed to keep myself in check, despite the soft rumbling growl deep in the base of my chest. Intelligence grew calm once more at the seeming realization that was not going to rip his throat out just yet. He took a breath and loosened the grip of his digits on my wrists, staring back at me unlike others would. Most others look away under my intense, angered gaze. He did not. "Look. We don't like each other; I get it. But the quarantine leaves us trapped in this part of the facility. With that thing." Those dark blue eyes of his seemed to harden in icy coldness I was used to seeing in him, only even steelier than before. "I hope it stays stuck in the main room. But if it gets out…" He trailed. Shook his head, "Either way we need each other to get through this place and find a new exit after the quarantine lifts. I'm sure GLaDOS will lift the lock on the doors for us when we find one and contact her." I almost desired to rip his throat out like then despite my hesitance to do so not a moment before. He still trusted her? That horrible, disgusting being?

In offense I nearly hissed at the man I was pinning to the floor, suddenly jumping away from him in a manner like a feral cat; using my four appendages like a wild animal. However, I misjudged my ability to keep myself up using my injured side; the sudden pressure applied to my shoulder sending a spike of pain ripping down my nerves. I let out a cry and my left arm crumpled, bringing the rest of my body down with it; my face pressed against the floor and heavy breaths leaving my throat that echoed with the slight edge of a rumbling, defeated growl roughening the edges of the sound. I stayed where I was, letting the cold seep into my cheek against the floor, letting my chest heave against the floor. It hurt… Though I didn't want to admit it; didn't want to appear weak before Intelligence. But even I couldn't force my body to take that much pressure when injured like it was.

I could hear him sitting back up away from the harsh floor I pressed him against. "I was going to fix that… If you hadn't suddenly decided to assault me," I heard him say with an edge of exasperation. I gave a weak snarl from where I was lying, pulling back my lips slightly as I studied him from where I was, not allowing my gaze to leave him. He moved slowly, his hands reaching off to his side to something I had not noticed before then; too distracted and blinded by rage to notice the small box he set on the ground before I jumped at him. A little white rectangle that I knew was standard issue here in most every room, marked with the black tainted logo of Aperture. A basic first aid kit that would be placed in any lab setting, in case of injury. Was that where he went when I woke? Searching for that thing? For myself?

I hesitated momentarily, the growl dying in my throat in replacement for a small hint of curiosity, and fascination, as I slowly sat myself back upright. I'd never had anyone bother to assist me before. They just left me be, and I took care of myself as I always had. This made me feel vulnerable; like I needed help. I didn't need anyone's help. I am fine by myself, I can handle myself. Still, this interested me. Intelligence hated me. And though he expressed that we did need each other to make it out of here alive; he could just leave my wound alone. I would live, though I would be weakened. Possibly he didn't want me to be a burden to him like this, I wasn't sure. What an annoyance.

Caught up thinking about it, I hadn't expected him to start tugging at the first button on my light gray suit jacket; startling me and making me rear away in fright. No- he couldn't see it! If he saw it… God forbid, he would leave me here to die. He would kill me himself. Or throw me back into the room with that monstrous atrocity. In fear I hissed, using my right arm to push myself back over onto my rear; using my legs to push myself a few feet away from the man before me. My injured arm was raised, my left hand clasped over my right shoulder in protection, even though that was not the side that was injured. But that was where _it_ was. If he took off my jacket and shirt, he would see it. He can't see it. No one can see it. He can't know.

Intelligence seemed offended and exasperated, his dark eyes rolling slightly up in his head. "What is it now? You have the mentality of a rabid dog. I'm trying to help you, do you understand me?" I drew back my lips again in defense. I knew that! I am not stupid, I understand his words. But… but it is imperative that he cannot see my right shoulder. He cannot see that mark.

I stared at him for a long moment in defense, before finally I moved my aching hands to work on unbuttoning my own shirt. As long as I keep it covered, he can patch up the wound on the nape of my neck as he wished. I had some trouble unbuttoning the thick black buttons, and typical agitated growls escaped me in my current upset. But I managed to separate the divide, and shed off the jacket whose left side was growing heavier and stickier with my movements. My dress shirt was much worse. The whole left side of the white once-pressed fabric was now stained in red warmth draining from my left collar side. The heavy fabric was weighted down and sticking to my skin, effectively showing the thinness of my torso despite the bit of muscle mass I held. The crimson stain was warm and uncomfortable, and made me grimace as I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled the clinging left side away from my flesh; a red stain left on my paled flesh. I let my arm slip from its confines, leaving the left half of my shirt hanging at my side. I kept my right arm twisted up awkwardly, pressing my palm against the collar against my right shoulder protectively. To ensure it did not slip and display what could not be seen to the man before me.

I sat still now, my head tilted away from the effective series of punctures and slightly torn flesh at the nape of my neck that was lightly bubbling out blood. My eyes were nearly fully closed, a sign of my grudging submission to allow Intelligence to touch me and wrap up the bleeding wound before it grew any worse than it was. A human can only loose so much blood, I knew. I didn't want to become a vulnerable target, weakened by my lack of life fluid in my body.

I tensed when I felt his digits touching my taunt flesh stretched over my collar bone and my neck. His hands were warm and soft, probing gently around the tear. I growled softly and felt his hands still momentarily; before they simply continued onward. I wondered if Intelligence was growing used to my feral noises in response to most anything that happened that bothered me. Maybe he knew I wasn't really going to kill him, that my growling showed distress and absent agitation; but not murderous intent. I knew he hated me, but maybe at least he could understand that my noises didn't mean I planned on killing whoever I directed them toward. I wasn't happy, but I wasn't to murderous intents yet.

I glanced over sideways at the man working on my injury, my hand clasped even now against my right shoulder. I watched as Intelligence pressed a folded up square of thick gauze against the punctures on my shoulder, making my jaw tense together without warning. It stung; some sort of disinfectant burning furiously at my flesh to ensure there was no bacteria clinging to its edges. I barely registered when he asked me to apply pressure to the folded up cloth, looking up at me with dark eyes when I didn't immediately listen. Slowly I pulled my hand away from my shoulder, the joint lifted slightly to ensure that my collar stayed where it was and did not slip away from my body. It could not happen, it was that simple.

I pressed my fingers against the cloth, feeling my own heartbeat throbbing against the wound under the thick gauze. My curious eyes watched as the brunette carefully extracted a roll of off-white medical tape from the box; pulling out a length of the strong material and tearing it off with his teeth. Due to the location of the injury, he probably assumed it would be too hard to appropriately bandage. The bandages wouldn't stay if I moved my arm, so the tape would be better. For once I agreed with him I suppose; it wasn't the first time I dealt with injures before.

I pulled my fingers away from the cloth to allow the man to continue his work, using multiple strips of tape to hold down the folded square; the strong sticky substance pulling slightly at my skin that it was clinging to where it held the gauze in place. I watched him add another thick square of gauze over the first; covering it as well with clinging medic tape, now a small lump of white and pale tan over the once smooth curved juncture between my neck and my shoulder. It was almost like it had its own heartbeat; a soft little throb coming from the center of the bandaging, right under its surface against the pressing wound. It was a little bothersome, yet fascinating at the same time. Cautiously I rolled my shoulder around a bit, feeling the tape tugging at my flesh, the slight sting from the still uncomfortable covered tear in my flesh.

I glanced up at Intelligence, and I nodded slightly in return. It wasn't really thanks, but I wasn't ignoring his assistance either. I still wasn't sure what to think of his assistance, to be honest. It was unusual to me… But whatever. At least I was no longer bleeding down my arm and staining my clothing. Of which reminded me to rug my white shirt back on over my left shoulder, deftly buttoning back up the little circles to ensure that I could keep everything I didn't want to be seen hidden. I reached over to grab my suit jacket, but hesitated as my eyes flickered over to Intelligence's. The gray fabric was now wrinkled and stained with my blood quite badly; due to the position I had been laying, even more so than my own; of which there was only crimson on the shoulder. I even spotted some stains from the swampy chemical that had been covering the floors of the previous room; likely gained from the commotion of him trying to assist me when I was assaulted. I didn't feel safe carrying that around; who knows what chemical that stuff could be? Bad enough already having it slicked onto my pant legs. I couldn't help but wonder though. Why did the brunette bother with me? Certainly he could make it out by himself. He had the brains for it… And no one would really blame him if I had died- just another causality in the name of science.

Wrapping my fingers around the collar of my jacket, I pulled it over my lap, studying the crimson red pin on its lapel that represented my Rank- just like Intelligence's dark blue gem on the lapel of his now stained coat. Glancing over at him, I tossed my jacket at him; the unsuspecting man having just enough of a reflex to reach up and catch the piece of clothing in his open arms. He looked at me in confusion. I shrugged my shoulders in a rolling motion, moving my clenched hands around my front- trying to mimic the action of putting on a coat. He raised a brow at me in that manner of his he always performed when he was interested, or confused, or wanting to ask questions.

"You want me to… wear your jacket?" I nodded once more. I was very bad at showing any form of thanks to anyone. I never needed to. Even so, the least I could do it let him take my jacket- since he ruined his for my benefit. After all, it wasn't exactly warm in these metal laboratories at anytime. And I knew it would only get colder in this part of the facility due to the quarantine- since the heating units would get shut off immediately to eliminate the risk of spreading around any sort of airborne pathogen or chemical. I felt he'd need the warmth of a coat. For some reason, when I looked at the man, he struck me as vulnerable. He was slender, and shorter than I was. Thus, he was dependent. I didn't like him, didn't want to care for him. But in the wake of the assistance he gave me, I'll help him in return. My rules can be very simple. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. He may not know it yet, but he'll be grateful for the coat once the air temperature drops- the heat stolen way from the greedy metal walls and appliances around us.

Those dark eyes studied me for a moment, before the brunette glanced down at the jacket in his hands. After a pause, he finally turned it around and pulled it over his shoulders. It was a bit big on him, I noticed, hanging down past his waist a bit. I smirked inwardly at the sight of it.

"Thank you," Intelligence said after a brief moment- doing some odd gesture with his hand as he did so. I grew very confused at this, my brow furrowing slightly and my eyes narrowing in uncertainty at what he just performed. The brunette clicked his tongue once more, and did it again. He raised his flat palm to his mouth; straight digits just barely touching to his lips before he let his hand fall down just below the level of his chest quickly; palm side upwards. "It means 'thank you'. It's sign language." I bared my teeth at him. He knew I did not know that sort of communication. No one taught me. Hadn't I gotten angry at him earlier for that? Didn't the damn bastard learn?

Intelligence kept talking- now doing a variety of different gestures with his hands and fingers as he spoke to me; a tad slowly, as if he had to recall old memories to do this. "I know you don't know it. But I thought I could teach you; I need to talk to you properly somehow." I scoffed in my throat. He never had a desire to converse with me before. Was it because of this situation? He just wished to ensure he made it out alive, I thought. Using my assistance- so he wanted to speak with me properly. Hm. I don't know how much I like the idea of this.

"I'm not an expert at it, but I know enough to help you," Intelligence continued, his hands moving with a bit more of invigorate confidence now. "I noticed how good you are at observing things," at this statement, I almost growled in defense. I hated when anyone realized things like that about me. It made me feel like they were really seeing me. "If I do this while I talk, you can watch my hands, and match my words with the gestures. Then you can communicate back to me," he explained. But I knew it wouldn't be as simple as it sounded. I was easily frustrated with these kinds of things. I didn't even want to deal with this kind of thing. I was fine with the way I was, using my own gestures to communicate with others… Still, it was hard. I hated when people couldn't understand me. I hated that I couldn't talk like other people can, couldn't let them know just what was wrong with me at the time- what was angering me and making me growl like a feral creature. Even if I did learn sign language, I still wouldn't be able to communicate like everyone else. But possibly, at the least… I could communicate better than I can now.

I lowered my gaze for a moment to my hands that were resting in my lap. Slowly I raised my right, flattening my palm and pressing the underside of my fingers against my lips. Then I let my hand drop down just below my chest- palm side upwards. Thank you. Intelligence blinked at first, as if he had not expected me to react so quickly. Or maybe he just never expected me to thank him. Intelligence thought so badly of me, and I understood why. But I could be civil… If I wished. The brunette before me smiled slightly in a bit of success, but I only shrugged. Smiling wasn't a part of my everyday life- and I wasn't pleased about this yet. If he could teach me how to 'talk', then I would smile.


	4. Lessons in Fire

This chapter's a bit shorter than the rest I see

Yet I'm still doing this rather than writing my lab reports- oh well

I apologize for switching PoV in the middle of a chapter, it just seemed like the best way to tell that part

Anyway, enjoy

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(Intelligence's PoV)

Anger still walked behind me whenever we would go somewhere.

Slouched over slightly like a caged feral animal, trailing behind a few steps like I had beaten him like a misbehaving dog. Or rather, like he simply didn't want to be near me. Reclusive as always, silently scowling and lurking in the background as he leveled glares at whoever wished to pass by him at the time.

I was still wearing his uniform jacket that he gave me. Slightly stained with blood on the left shoulder; the gray fabric was a bit heavier than my own, for just as well it was a bit larger than my own. It hung down against my waist, and its sleeves covered over the joint of my thumb. As we walked down the adjacent hallway to the room we had just been lying in, I kept looking down and staring at the scarlet red gem pinned to the lapel of his uniform. I kept wondering why he decided to give it to me. Maybe he was trying to compensate for the one I ruined. I don't know why I gave my jacket to him either, to be honest. It was just like… When he wasn't conscious, and glaring and snarling all the time; lying there on the floor looking vulnerable and unprotected. His face was clam and placid; an unusual display on his countenance that made him look much younger than his scowling visage before. So I guess I just felt a bit of reason to give him a small amount of comfort; even if only a folded jacket under his head. I wasn't being kind to him though, really. I still hated most everything about the man; I just had enough morale to do this for him.

I glanced over my shoulder with absent haste to see the sulking man behind me. Red stained the left side of his white dress shirt; but I found the color to be quite fitting for him. I was distracted by this opaque stain of scarlet when it startled me.

The thump that resonated when it hit against the glass was starling; the sound seeming to vibrate the very pane itself; making my body flinch of its own flight over fight accord, my head turning to quickly take in the source of the horrid sound. Of the atrocity screeching at my existence from less than a foot away; its gaping mouth full of crooked, sharp teeth snapping and biting at my form. The sight of it made me uneasy, made my jaw tense together without thought. But I knew it could not get me. The hall we were currently contained in was made solely of thick, solid glass that was made to stand up to quite a bit of blows and pressure. To my right over looked the main entrance room where those… creatures still resided; still reacting to seeing us through the glass with vicious, animalistic hunger to tear us completely apart.

It was 'them' now, as well. I had noticed it when he first entered this hall. The missteps and general destruction the first creature brought with it had damaged some of the other hulls as well. Some of them, those who looked like the first escapee, moved so quickly I could hardly keep my eye on their forms as their bird like forms darted among the other hulls and large lab tables. There were maybe two of those that escaped- or three. I could hardly keep track. But there were others now too. Ones that slithered from their glass containment hulls that looked… different than the first.

Claws curled like hooks scraped harshly across the glass before us; the sound creating a horridly high pitched noise that made me shudder involuntarily, like a chilled finger slid down the course of my spine. That was one of the new creatures. It reminded me of a dog; its skin gray and taunt, its curved torso pressed against the cold floor. It had no legs. Its entire waist looked like it was torn off; leaving tattered skin and flesh dragging behind it along with the bloody remains of the bones of the lower vertebrae. But where it lacked in legs it made up in its arms. They bent up at their elbows far above the creature's upper skull; thick and strong in appearance; with large ungainly hands that pressed against the floor firmly. I had already learned it used these appendages like levers; propelling itself forward through the air in a manner that it should not be able to do with only those two limbs. Another atrocity- and there could be more.

I wondered if they were once people. Tortured and torn apart- put together in interesting, unusual ways. But then I thought more of it. If they were once normal beings, they were dead before this happened to them. The signs of death were apparent in their grotesque, bloated features. The hollow, taunt skin, ashen gray in its color; the partially swollen flesh that hung off their bodies. Human beings who died, and were attempted to be reanimated. But the affects of these experiments were obvious; their failures were obvious. Failures that had now escaped- that were now out to cause their untimely deaths. Wonderful.

I was pleased to leave that glass hallway behind; even if it was in favor of another small room, darkened by shadows and lit only by the constant, screaming glow of the quarantine lights that hung up above the doors in seemingly every room. Like a looming death that kept reminding us of its presence. Of the situation we were in.

I was frustrated with this place, to be frank. Right now I should be in my dormitory, simply resting or writing or just trying to relax before work tomorrow. Trying to remember or to forget; but not to be here. In this dark and dampened space that held the horrible odor of disinfection chemicals and the reek of dead flesh. If it wasn't for the fact I knew I was quite stubborn, I probably would have just sat down and waited for GLaDOS to fix everything. For she would. I knew she would; she'd figure it out, she wouldn't just leave us here. I know everyone thought so poorly of the woman, but she really was not so bad, yes? After all, if it wasn't for her I likely wouldn't be able to stand on my own.

I looked back at the ghostly presence lingering behind me in the dark room after the metal door had slid shut on its hinges. We hadn't been walking for too long now, but maybe we left too soon, I thought. For the black haired male behind me already seemed a bit tired; though I could plainly see how he was attempting to hide it. He still stood ramrod straight, and his angled jaw was tense as ever. But I could also see how his chest rose and fell out of any particular rhythmic metronome; and how his left hand absently gripped at his right brachial, as if steadying it would keep it from throbbing in pain. Maybe it was expecting too much of him to be moving so quickly already after having just woken up from a death-like unconsciousness from loosing blood like he did. Though the wound was not terrible, I suppose logically he would be weakened. Though it seemed strange to me. I never really imagined Anger as being even able to show weakness. He was always so damn vehement and cold; always wearing that same expression of distaste. It was weird to see him weakened in any manner; I was unsure what to do with it.

Letting a small sigh pass my lips, I turned around fully. "Come on; let's sit down for a minute." As I told him I would, I moved my hands as I spoke. I'll admit, I was having a bit of a difficult time remembering some of the sign language I was taught while under the vigilant care of GLaDOS when I first woke up after the accident. It was a skill I had never needed to use just yet, so I had to truly attempt to recall some of the more specific gestures. There were times when I even could not, but hopefully that wouldn't matter too much. I just needed him to know a little bit. A few basic things so it wasn't impossible to understand him all the time. Though I didn't like it, I knew under these circumstances we needed to work together on this; so I at least needed to be able to understand his input.

Anger regarded me with a small scoff of indifference; and attempt to show he didn't really need the break I offered. But he wasn't refusing it. I sat down on the metal floor without thought; the place was clean enough so I thought little of it. Though the floor was cold, the metal sapping heat from the back of my folded legs without mercy. But I'd deal with it, it wasn't that bad. Anger sat down as well, as usual keeping himself a small distance away from me as if I would lunge out and bite him or something. Though honestly, shouldn't I be the one hoping he wouldn't assault me? He was quite the unpredictable individual, after all.

I watched as the wounded man absently peeled back his collar to look at the bandages tapped to his arm; as if checking to assure they were still there, or that he was not bleeding excessively once again. I waved a bit to get his attention; scarlet hues snapping back up to my visage. In a rather spontaneous burst of thought I pointed at him; then raised my hand up before my face- before pulling my hand back a bit and curling my fingers down almost like claws. Those eyes narrowed a bit at me, expecting of an explanation of this new gesture. I shrugged,

"Well, it is meant to express an emotion- but in all purposes I suppose it is your name. Anger," I explained. Said man curled his lip slightly and glanced away to express his obvious dislike in this. Maybe just dislike in the code name he was given at this place. I never considered he could have been offended by it; but, it was what he was to be called. I knew not of his real name. No one did, we all just followed the rules and kept our true names to ourselves. I don't even recall my own true name since the accident, so I suppose I can't understand his dislike in it.

Anger looked back at me finally and pointed at me now. I arched a brow slightly, "My name?" I asked, attempting to follow the line rail of what he would want from me after what I had given to him. The ebony haired man nodded. Shrugging and seeing no harm in it, I curled all my fingers on my hand in save for my index finger; placing my finger against my brow before sharply pushing my hand away from my face like a salute. Once more the man nodded and slowly went to repeat the gesture I showed him. Now he could at least refer to me properly when he wished to, I mused.

He hesitated slightly before he went to replicate the gesture of his own 'name' I showed him before, as if to ensure that he could do it properly. As I claimed, he was good as his observational skills even if he didn't wish to show them; he managed just fine, and I nodded in approval. I supposed we could do this. Whenever we had the opportunity to, I could directly show him words and phrases that he may need to know. To make his learning go a bit faster, so I could show him what I did know. My only question being why no one ever taught him before…

I was surprised when Anger stiffened all of a sudden; as if he was a dog hearing the high cry of a dog whistle. He stood without thought, only just sparing a glance at me. Hesitating, he pointed his index fingers up; then forward in a quick motion. It was one of the gestures I had used when I was telling him we needed to start walking again. 'Go'. I studied him, and shrugged, before I went to stand myself. But he stopped me, shook his head and pointed only at himself. I raised a brow, "You want me to… stay?" I asked tentatively, searching for his words. He nodded. "Will you come back?" A question I felt the need to ask of him, not even thinking of it. Like he would really consider just leaving me here. I knew we didn't get along, but thinking logically, we needed each other to get through this place. I didn't expect him to just leave me here.

Once again, Anger nodded, and I relaxed slightly. I had a hard time trusting him normally, but I suppose when I thought about it, Anger never really lied. He was honest to a horrid, offensive point at times. So I nodded and let him leave; watching as he turned and walked across the room. I could just see his darkened silhouette walking to the back of the room, before disappearing though a metal door that was locked into an open position due to the quarantine rather than a closed one. A small mishap likely from damage no one had reported or bothered to fix before now. Likely not expecting something like this to occur, I thought.

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I wasn't really sure how long it had been since Anger left, or when I first really started to notice it. I honestly should have expected it. This place is full of chemicals; even the air by now likely doused in the evaporation of the chemicals spilled from the hulls in the main room, and the chemical cabinets those atrocities likely knocked over, spread by the vents. Things that were very likely flammable; turning this place of metal into a fire waiting to occur; spread through the air and trails of spilled chemicals; to combust more chemicals stored in cabinets close to the vents as the air temperature rose due to ignition of the evaporated flammable substances. All it would take is a spark, or concentrated heat from a machine still running in this part of the facility.

I suppose I was distracted; but I should have thought about it from the safety lessons we learned about these situations, or when I noticed the heat in the air and the metal floor I was seated upon. Not before one of the slightly ajar cabinets in the room suddenly caught fire with the sound of shattering glass.

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(Anger's PoV)

I was listening to the voice coming from the small device hidden in my ear when I heard it. The horrid sound of shattering glass and the whoosh of heat crackling the atmosphere; drowning out the voice coming from the ear piece I had hidden on my body. The little device cackled in static under the sudden addition of heat pressure,

"-'s going on?" They ask these things as if I can answer them. They know I cannot; they just talk at me and tell me what to do. Probably just habit that made him spit out these words; but I snarled at him anyhow, turning round in the dark room I had entered. The orange splash of color coming from the next room was enough to tell me what was going on. I worked with the storage and movement of the chemicals here; I knew how dangerous they were and how easily flammable some of them were. How even their gases can cause the spread of heat and flame through open rooms in the facility. Only two recognizable fires had happened in here before, but I knew how easy they could occur. Especially under a situation like this one in quarantine.

My first instinct was to put a door between me and it and close the vents to prevent evaporated flammables from continuing to pour forth and turn this place into a waiting explosion. As I was trained to react, of course. But then I thought about the poor lab worker who likely hadn't a damn clue what to do in a situation like this one; with a possible fire as big as this one. Damnitt.

Past my better judgment of my own self-preservation, I went to step back through the door of the room I had just left; feeling the sudden suffocation of heat hit my body and the smell of smoke and burning compounds. Along with another body. I growled habitually when the other figure hit against me straight on; the man barley managing to keep himself up right after hitting the obstacle before him. I watched the blue-eyed man step back and focus his gaze on my visage; dark hues reflecting the bright slash of the orange light of flame. I had been coming to fetch him; and I wondered if he ran this way to fetch me as well. Hm, I shouldn't be so egotistical. This was probably the only way out- which means I needed to back track myself.

His wrist was thin against my palm as I pulled him along. I wondered if I could somehow break him by handling him like this; forcefully pulling him after me and away from the danger behind us. Intelligence always had struck me as a weak character- but then again, I thought of most like such.

Even I flinched at the horrible crack that echoed across the air then; the heat in this room having grown strong enough to boil and combust a few containers of product that someone so foolishly left out for those of Class F rank to be cleaning up for them. The containers exploded into small bursts of flame that ignited against the gases evaporated into the air; a loud whoosh of sound thundering upwards across the room in a sudden wall of flame. We were lucky this entire place wasn't full of the gases yet; or we'd already be dead.

I ignored it when Intelligence stumbled slightly behind me; my gaze was already fixed on our current point of exit. A metal door not yet surrounded by flames; the only way to escape the inferno that would soon be growing stronger behind us. I looked at him when I reached the door, expecting him to unlock the sliding device like he always did. And quickly. But the brunette shook his head quickly- he had noticed what I had not. The identification decide mounted at the side of the door was damaged from a prior accident; keeping the door firmly locked closed. And keeping us locked in what would very well be our tomb.

I snarled at our luck, kicking the door as if that would make it slide open. I felt Intelligence pull at my arm, yelling at me even though I refused to look his way.

"Come on, we need to go, we can't get through this way," he told me, using his immediate logical thoughts right away. I yanked my arm away from him, stepping aside in the hot room over to one of the sturdy lab tables in the room. "Anger, listen to me. The flames aren't going to kill us- the smoke will. We need to leave." I inwardly damned his logical words and decided I'd be much better off just not listening to him. I knew chemical fires better than he ever would- we wouldn't find another exit by the time the gases grew too strong and this entire place engulfed itself. This was our only option- and I wasn't going to die by a fire.

I don't know if he kept talking or not, possibly confused by what I was doing as I pulled a metal ruler off the surface of the table. The metal of the thin object was already hot to my touch, but I was able to easily ignore it in the wake of this situation. I'd rather deal with some uncomfortable heat and red skin than getting killed.

Feeling the heat of flames on my back, I drew back and wedged the end of the thin metal piece into the divide between the panels of the door; feeling the ruler edge dig into my palm as I forced it into the narrow divide. From there I pushed forward on the outward jutting metal piece; forcing the weight of my body and strength into it in a feeble attempt to pry at the firmly closed door. The flimsy metal bent forward under my force- but I expected that. It wasn't strong enough to be used as a successful crow bar, but that didn't matter. I just needed to force it open enough so that I could pry at the panels myself.

A small silver of white appeared between the blackness under the force of the bending ruler. I let the now useless object drop out of hands now in favor of curling my fingers into the new opening, pulling backwards with all the amount of force I could muster into my body. It had to open, it just had to. Just enough to slip though… Yet as I tugged at the panels all I could see was the ash dark smoke that flowed forward and filled the newly made opening; blocking out that bit of white that likely could have been our salvation.

My fingers slipped off the slick metal as I pulled at it; only to quickly return to the door frame and try again; curling desperately against the panel as if this clawed gesture could make it so I could hold onto it better. I could feel the friction of the metal grating against the track keeping it from moving forward properly, keeping it from opening. Once again I slipped, my body stumbling backwards slightly. My arms were aching and protesting against the work I forced them into doing while the temperature of the air grew warmer; and the air grew thinner. It felt like my lungs were being scalded on the inside, peeling and ready to burst. I couldn't draw enough oxygen to keep doing this.

The opening in the door was now maybe the length of the ruler I had used to attempt to pry it open. The narrow way was filling with black smoke; and I knew it would soon have to be closed for my plan to even work. But I couldn't fit through that narrow way. But I knew someone who could. I don't know why it came to mind, or why I cared about it at all. I'm sure even Intelligence was surprised when I grabbed his shoulders and directed him to the door. If he turned sideways, I was sure the narrow man could at least make it through there.

It was barely enough; but Intelligence managed to fit his way through the crack in the doorway, vanishing among the black smog. I felt my lungs constrict painfully as he did, and I let myself cough as my body finally protested the heat and the fumes more loudly. Yet as I coughed I only breathed in more to compensate for the gesture- only grabbing more burning air to congest my sensitive lungs. I would burn from the inside out in this place- but there was nothing more I could do.

Though that was before the shadowy hands emerged from the blackness and tugged at my body; curling into the shirt I was wearing. I didn't protest it- my screaming lungs not really allowing me to even offer a growl or a hiss in return.

But the air was clearer here, where it released me and let me fall. Though my lungs still simmered from the hot air, there was enough fresh oxygen for me to take a breath; though the taste and smell of burning ash and chemicals still remained. And was still growing stronger with the heat licking at my back.

My heavy head lifted enough to focus my bleary vision on the figure before me; of the familiar brunette man who still stood, his chest rising and falling heavily from the force of exertion. Intelligence had pulled me into the next room- but how…? I glanced back at the opening in the metal door behind me that still billowed with smoke; focused on the divide that was now wider than it had been before. Whereas I had been too exerted to finish pushing the metal apart, Intelligence was able to just push the panels back on their tracks enough to allow my escape from the growing inferno as well. Once again he saved my life- damn; I was going to have to start a list of things I was going to owe this annoying son of a bitch.

But though we were safer than we had been a moment ago, I knew the situation would only repeat itself until the fire was smothered and the fumes stopped advancing. Next time we might not be so lucky, so I knew what I needed to do to ensure it wouldn't occur. I pushed myself back up to my feet, stumbling slightly around to simply bash my hand against the non-damaged access pad on the other side of the door- knowing the false code would make the door automatically close and lock itself. The metal screeched slightly at its first movement, grinding against the edge where it was thrown off track by the force we put against it, before it finally smoothly slid shut with a small cascade of golden sparks from the base of its tracks. The seal of the doors in Aperture keep out nearly all airflow; this should seize the flow of fumes and dark smoke from the blazing rooms.

Yet that was not where I stopped. Next I kneeled on the floor- beside the white industrial vent that as well was still letting blackened smoke spew into the cleaner air of this room. Beside the small vent there was another sort of access panel; one that was smaller and required as well both a card and key. But I knew the code, and my own card would allow me access. For my rank itself was the one that dealt with this sort of thing in the case of a serious vaporous chemical leak.

The ID I kept in my pocket came in good hand at these moments; as I used the card to unlock the panel and type in the needed set of letters to override the system and do what I wished it to do. Which was to completely shut the air vents in this entire part of the facility.

The metal vents stalled slightly as their great panels went to close; this feature not having to be used so often to keep them in well working order. But they were able and working; and the white metal plates soon slammed shut, blocking off the airways completely. Aperture Laboratories was in an odd setting I suppose- underground. These airways were necessary to keep oxygen flowing down here to keep us all alive. I knew there were later consequences to shutting these airways.

"You've closed the vents?" I glanced over my shoulder at the speaking man; nodding slowly as I stood back up to my feet. "That will cut off the air supply, right?" Again I nodded. Intelligence's face was smeared with black; and I wondered if the room he was in was where the original combustion took place. I could see the places where his clothing was spotted with small tears possibly from flying glass, and the small speckles of blood and burns on his exposed skin- on his wrists, hands, and neck. There was a pretty nasty one oozing out blood just over his brow, leaking down just around his eye, just short of blinding him with the fluid. "How long will it last?" Intelligence was smart, but we were dealing with my field of expertise now. I shrugged my shoulders and held up my fingers.

"Eight hours?" He asked for confirmation over the eight digits I raised. I nodded. For what I could average, this part of the facility was large enough that the air supply in here would last us eight hours before we started feeling the effects of oxygen deficiency. Of course, give or take now that the fire had eaten away some of the rooms and the usable air. But it was a pretty good thumb to go off of, I guess.

It just meant that in eight hours, either we got out, or we died.


End file.
